


Malathena

by Kalpeahius



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M, MerMay, Other, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Self-Indulgent, Some Plot, Teratophilia, merman, unbetaed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-07
Updated: 2019-06-07
Packaged: 2020-04-12 09:08:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19128931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kalpeahius/pseuds/Kalpeahius
Summary: Runa finds an unorthodox cure. (Old fic written in honour of MerMay!)





	Malathena

**Author's Note:**

> Unbetaed drabble about a merman and a lady! Written a year ago for MerMay. The second chapter is almost finished, only a couple of scenes left (it feels like pulling teeth though, so I'm afraid they take a while still). Teratophilia - heed the tags and the archive warning.

The sea was soft and cool, its underwater embrace both a relief and discomfort for her sickly, feverish body. Her ears echoed with her own stertorous breathing, her lungs working laboriously through her sickness.

Malathena’s arms were around her waist, webbed hands at her hip bones and under her pillowing skirts. His cold mouth was upon hers, his gills working like bellows at pushing air into her through their kiss.

It was the strangest feeling. This muted, heavy, yet light world - like a dream. A dream that served a purpose, she was reminded when Malathena’s claws cut the sewing of her underpants, and spread her thighs to straddle the merman’s tail. Malathena felt slippery and smooth, his tail the same texture as a shark’s skin.

The village fishermen she had talked to had been close-mouthed about the fishfolk’s remedies - the visiting farseas sailors had waved her away with a gruff “pretty lasses shouldn’t ask about such things”. The merfolk had healing remedies for many a thing, this she knew, like every child who had grown with heeding tales. The details had always been a bit muddy though - and no wonder.

_“Your seed is a cure?”_

_“Yessssh. Or eggs, maybe a better term. Milky, bluish stuff. Should fill you up nicely, and stay inside for a few days to absorb. Nutritious, healthy. Heal. Even this stupid bloody cough you’re having.”_

‘Mala thena’, or ‘the bad Thena’ as was the name’s meaning, had a few of his own stories. The bad luck merchant. The black shark. Thena of silver tongue and honeyed words, and razor sharp teeth. His tail was deep black and his skin like porcelain, his eyes wholly black, so that you never knew what he was looking at.

What the stories didn’t mention was his lack of a shoal. Thena, unlike the other merfolk, didn’t keep company. She had asked him once, about his family: the resulting expression forebode cruelty should she ask again. His loneliness gave her something to bargain with however, and the gleam in his eyes at her suggestion had sealed their deal.

Her lids were closed to keep the salt off her eyes. She went by feeling, and twined her arms around Malathena’s chest. He dragged her body upwards over a hard mound, and then pushed her insistently back down, angling her.

The water sloshed inside her ears, and her heart gave a loud beat when something mobile and slippery pushed against her entrance. It would be pointy. Pointy and thick and hooked, he had smiled with an ominous slant and she had swallowed. Meeting it for the first time she found that it felt surprisingly hot against her folds. She crossed her ankles behind his tail to keep herself from drifting away.

She made a sound in her throat when Malathena’s tentacle-like member began to push and squirm into her eagerly. He was keeping her tight against him, grip immovable. His tail trashed a few times, the movement helping him deeper inside.

From then on, she had difficulties breathing. It wasn’t that there was a shortage of air - Malathena created enough oxygen for her, but her mouth was numb and slack against his, her whole attention on handling the weird sensations below.

In, in, in - she felt thin and stretched, too small and narrow compared to where a merman’s sticky bits usually fitted into. Which wasn’t humans. But Malathena hummed against her, the water vibrating in a calming drone.

It hurt. It felt good. It squirmed inside her tight orifice until it apparently found itself satisfyingly deep, and - the hooks he had warned her about spread and locked his cock inside - bubbles escaped from the corner of her mouth when she couldn’t help a pained noise.

Malathena petted her, soothing while not letting her move away. She took violent gasps from his mouth.

Squirm squirm. Still. Squirm. She felt the contractions and movement at her entrance, the hilt swelling and starting to pulse periodically. With a hazy, belated thought she realised Malathema had began to push his seed inside her. His body was tense, his tail slashing the water in jerky movements every now and then. The way his arms had caged her immobile was peculiar - he held her like a toy, like a thing to be used. Unmindful of the bruises born from the rough handling.

Squirm squirm. Pulse. Hooks prickling her while they held her in place during the occasional trashings. It went on for a long, long time. Her legs slackened at his sides, knees not having the strength to hold onto his lower body. The feeling of tightness had turned into fullness - slowly, her belly was bulging into a warm bump. She didn’t know what to think about it. Hadn’t known that would happen. But she had given him permission to do whatever, and he seemed to enjoy her for all it was worth. Sex. Malathena didn’t have much opportunities for that.

She was slightly delirious at the end, cocooned in the water and filled up until the water surrounding them was painted murky: Malathena’s seed had begun to overflow in dribbles. She separated their mouths and tasted the water - ocean salt, iron from blood and buttery seaweed. Would drinking his seed have the same effect? She hadn’t thought of that.

Malathena let out a humming sound that she recognized as disappointment. He captured her lips again and loosened his hold, a hand searching its way under her skirt and coming to rest against her strangely swollen tummy, petting it almost lovingly.

He made a last, hard push and the water around them turned into a murky cloud. The hooks shrank, the slithering member empty now, and slipping out of her easily and back into its sheath.

She was almost asleep, too tired to move her limbs.

Malathena lifted her and pushed her thighs together to keep his present in. With a much gentler touch, he supported her against himself, and began to swim to the surface. The filtered sunlight made their skin glow, and she knew that if this didn’t work, the fever born from this risky underwater dance would kill her.


End file.
